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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701639">Hide Your Face So The World Won't Find You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Peredhel/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Peredhel'>Ravenclaw_Peredhel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fire's Nameless Child [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works &amp; Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Almarea is adorable, Also a dead parent, And consquences, And grandmum, Arafinwe is a good uncle, Basically quite dark, F/M, Gen, Hopefully it'll get better, Indis is a fantastic mum, Nerdanel is a Good Parent, Oath of Fëanor, She's just generally awesome, Which are dire, also, and stop writing so much fanfiction, i need to get a life, oh well, she's the general baby of the house of finwe, that is never finished</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 04:01:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701639</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Peredhel/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Peredhel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A little girl wanders alone through Tirion shortly after the Flight of the Noldor. Who is she? And what does she have to do with the (fairly) newly crowned and grieving Arafinwë Noldoran?</p><p>Rewritten.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eärwen/Finarfin | Arafinwë, Finarfin | Arafinwë &amp; Original Female Character(s), Indis (Tolkien) &amp; Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fire's Nameless Child [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. And the Streets Are Full Of Strangers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052201">Tell Me Please</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umeko/pseuds/Umeko">Umeko</a>.
        </li>
        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24559057">The goddess and the alternate universes</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasticoncer/pseuds/Fantasticoncer">Fantasticoncer</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ch 50 of Fantasticoncer's the goddess and the alternate universe inspired this, particularly their portrayal of feanor.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm stretching out the time line a bit because elves. </p><p>The title of the fic comes from the song masquerade from the phantom of the opera</p><p>The title of the chapter comes from on my own from les mis (my friend is way too obsessed with musicals okay)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The stars had been veiled for nigh on a decade, only beginning to truly shine in the last month. It was ten years to the day since Fëanàro Curufinwë had entered Tirion the Fair and stirred up the people of the Noldor to rebellion against the Valar. </p><p>Few elves inhabited the streets, many closed within their homes, for it was nigh on what passed for evening in the sorrowing twilit world that was now all that existed even in the Blessed Realm. A tiny child, probably born just after the Darkening, wandered through the streets, weeping. Arafinwë Noldoran was also in the broad darkened roads of Tirion. The crown had been cast aside for once and he felt lighter by far than he had for years. He sighed, rubbing his forehead, which throbbed with the incessant courtiers and ever growing amount of paperwork he had to deal with. Perhaps if he had been looking where he was going, he would never have bumped into the child, and things would never have changed. Instead, he nearly fell over her and so looked straight into her petrified face, which petrified him in turn. For beneath the tears, was a child he knew. A child he knew very well indeed. "Alma? What are you doing out so late? And...why are you crying?"</p><p>She stared up at him, and burst into more tears, flinging her arms around his knees. "Uncle Ara! Amil's gone. She won't move or talk to me, and she hasn't even gotten up for a week and I'm so scared uncle Ara!" Arafinwe's blood ran cold. It sounded as though Nerdanel was dead? Surely not. In any case, he needed to take his niece to her mother. She was doubtless frantic with worry over her daughter.</p><p>***********************</p><p>Nerdanel lay still on her bed, her eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. In her hand lay a piece of parchment, with the seal of the Halls on it.</p><p>"Alma sweetheart, come here. Amil is a bit sick, so she has to go away and get better, and she will come back soon. Do you want to live with Uncle Ara and Haruni Indis for a bit?" He barely managed to keep his voice from trembling as he looked away from his law-sister's body. He could guess why her fëa had left her hröa. There was no need to look at the parchment. Now, there was need to look after Almarëa. Nerdanel would return in time he was sure. </p><p>The walk to the palace, and then through it to the royal quarters, had never seemed so long before. Especially as every step was punctuated with Almarëa's sniffles. Although she had accepted his explanation, she still had gathered a little of the gravity of the situation, and knew that something was horribly wrong with her mother. He stormed into the royal apartments, calling over his shoulder for a bath to be drawn. "Ara...what in Eru's name is-" </p><p>Ah, there was his mother. She stood in the doorway of her apartments, one hand over her mouth in shock as she saw Almarëa. Even as stressed and angry as he was, Arafinwe could not help but smile. Indis had taken one look at the child when she was born, and promptly fallen in love with her. She was highly protective of her granddaughter, and the smile slid off of his face. Perhaps he shouldn't tell his mother what had happened to Nerdanel just yet. "Later Amil, right now this little one needs a bath, clean clothes and some food."</p><p>Indis just gaped for a moment, and then collected herself admirably. "Well, give her to me. You can't be bathing a female child, not as a male king. Now, get the maids to sort out the nursery and some food and clothes. You know the drill, goodness knows Artanis came in like this many times. Now, come here Alma sweetheart, let Haruni give you a bath and help you get dressed, does that sound nice?" The little child went with nary a complaint thank goodness.</p><p>***************</p><p>By the time that Arafinwë had arranged for Nerdanel's discarded hröa, organised the servants and then helped them to clean and rearrange the nursery, find some clothes and send them to his mother, get food that Almarëa would be able to eat after such a shock and then checked everything over exhaustively, his mother was still not finished with her. He was sitting at the table, trying to find a way to phrase the news when the door opened and in came his mother. Holding her hand was Almarëa, the hope and comfort of the House of Finwe after the Darkening and the Exile. Her eyes were the only feature obviously of her father's house, instead she could be a child of any of the branches of the House of Finwe. A child of them all. Rich golden hair with a silvery tint (so like Tyelkormo's and Artanis') fell in gentle waves nearly to her waist, and doubtless when she was grown, it would be as famous as his own daughter's and possibly rival it for beauty. Almond-shaped dark blue-grey eyes stared apprehensively around her, the darkest thing about her, rimmed with pale lashes that made them seem even darker. Her face was sweet and pretty, with the promise of at more than fair looks as she grew, and probably a great deal more. Her little mouth was like a rosebud, soft and pink and she looked altogether too innocent and lovely for words, standing at about knee height, clad in one of Artanis' old dresses, a light delicate blue with silver and gold flowers embroidered around the hem. She looked a little happier, clinging to her grandmother's skirts, sheltered.</p><p>He was sorry for what had happened with Nerdanel. Their relationship would never be the same again, not with how long she would spend in the Halls - no elf had ever been released before at least a yèni had passed, and Almarëa would be of age before then.. His law-sister may have been distraught, but Almarea would still be damaged by her mother's absence. Instead, she doubtlessly had found a new anchor in her grandmother. He was glad - Indis had a calming, steadfast nature, and she would protect the little elleth with everything that she had. He loved his mother, he really did, but he sometimes found her terrifying. </p><p>Arafinwe made an executive decision to delegate the task of telling his mother exactly <em>why</em> his niece was suddenly changing accomodation as her mother had abruptly disappeared to a rather unpleasant councillor who had been bugging him lately. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay first things first. Firstly, I'm rewriting this because I've decided that I can't make Nerdanel bad or insane so I'm killing her instead. My reasons are that she recieved news that Feanor entered Mandos, and she broke down. So, basically, I've decided that when an elf enters Mandos, their family gets a notification. This basically was the straw that broke the camel's back and Nerdanel lost it and died of grief. Or something like that<br/>Please feel free to criticise and suggest alterations. I'm fourteen, so I know nothing about psychology or human motives or anything like that.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Red, a World About To Dawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter title is from Les Mis, ABC Cafe/Red and Black.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Almarëa...Almarëa, come out. You don't want to miss breakfast do you?" Arafinwë never raised his voice to children under his care, but sometimes his niece was very frustrating. When she realised exactly what had happened to Nerdanel, she had sort of...hollowed out, and become a quiet little shadow for a long while. His mother said that it was a good sign that she finally felt secure enough again to disobey, but it could be very trying. "We are going to have grapes..." For some reason, the little elfling adored the fruit, and it almost always worked to get her to come out. A little hand poked from under the bed, followed by another, and then a head of golden hair with blue-grey eyes staring up at her uncle apprehensively. "Ah, there you are little one. What do you say we get a warm robe on you and go to have breakfast on the terrace with Haruni Indis?" A nod, and so Arafinwë lifted the child and carried her out, wrapping her in a little woollen mantle of bright gold. </p><p>Arafinwë and his mother had, after discussion at great length, decided not to announce the reason for Nerdanel and Almarea's respective relocations. It would help neither of the ellith, and both needed desperately to heal. He smiled down at the elfling, glad for the familiar weight of a child in his arms. She resembled the much beloved Míriel Serinde (Indis's best friend before the debacle with Finwë) far more than the rather less beloved Fëanáro Curufinwë. Upon seeing Indis, Almarëa wriggled a little, and Arafinwë let her down. She ran to Indis, climbing up on her lap and clinging to her - she liked Arafinwë and trusted him, but somehow she was bolder and happier around Indis. "Ah, there you are Ara, Alma sweetheart. Why were you so late today?" Perhaps it was simply because Indis had an aura so calm and motherly that it was almost impossible not to trust and like her. </p><p>"It was not me Amil!" Arafinwë held his hands up in mock protestation of his innocence, glad to hear a giggle from Almarëa. "Almarëa was under the bed and wouldn't come out!"</p><p>"Oh, and why were you there Alma?" The elfling shrunk against her pseudo-grandmother, her demeanour suddenly that of the child Arafinwë had found on the streets. She mumbled somethin inaudible. "Sorry sweetheart, I didn't catch that."</p><p>Almarëa repeated her statement a little louder, her voice trembling "Am I a monster Haruni?</p><p>"Alma, sweetheart, of course you aren't. Why in Arda would you think that?" Indis' voice was soothing, but she exchanged an alarmed glance with her son. </p><p>"But Lord Valandil said that Atya was a...a...Kingslayer...Kinslayer, and so are my brothers, and so I'm a monster because I'm like them!"</p><p>"Alma, you should know better than to listen to stuffy old Valandil. You know as well as I do that he doesn't say anything that we should pay attention to." Indis kept her voice light on purpose, though a slight tremble betrayed her true feelings on the matter to her son. Almarëa nodded and clung to her grandmother's hand. </p><p>"But am I a bad child Haruni?"</p><p>"You are not a bad child Alma sweetie. You are a very very sweet and kind child, and anyone should be honoured to meet you. And you know I am telling the truth don't you because your Amil would say the same thing." Arafinwë hastened to chime in his own reassurances on the tail end of his mother's firm words. Almarëa relaxed a little, although she still clung to Indis' hand. </p><p>"Uncle Ara...can you tell me about him?" She had never asked about her father before. Not in all the years since her birth. But he supposed Nerdanel told her a lot about him. So why would she want him to tell her...oh. Of course. Nerdanel was gone. She wasn't there for Almarëa to ask.</p><p>"My brother Fëanáro, had to leave a long time ago, before you were born. He had seven sons, your older brothers, who would have loved and cherished you fiercely and teased you mercilessly. I..." He was not good with oration - that had always been Fëanáro's skill, not his. "He wasn't always kind, but he was clever and funny and deeply devoted to those whom he loved." Arafinwë was never quite sure afterwards just how he and his mother managed to convey to his niece who Fëanáro was, that he wasn't a monster, what he and his sons were like and that no they did most emphatically not hate her for the blood that ran through her veins.</p><p>Arafinwë was inexcusably late for council, and his mother simply didn't appear for anything for the rest of the day, but both considered it quite worth it to see the pure bliss on Almarëa's face when she realised that the two most important people in her life loved and cherished her still. And that her Amil was coming back sometime soon.</p><p>************************</p><p>
  <em>Four years later</em>
</p><p>"Haruni! Tôrada! Look at the sky!" It was indeed something to marvel at. A giant orb of silver hung in the heavens, sending bright light through the Blessed Realm for the first time since the Darkening. For Almarëa, it was especially strange - she had been born after the end of the trees, and in her memory, she had only starlight and lamplight. The new light was strange and a little scary for her, as evidenced by the way that the fifteen year old elfling clung to her uncle and grandmother. </p><p>"So this is the light that the Valar promised us. They say it will shine over all of Arda." Arafinwë's voice was quiet with wonder. ''Isil, they told us it was called - moon."</p><p>"Perhaps it shines over our kin in the Hither Lands as well. May it bring them hope." Indis sounded sad and Almarëa impulsively embraced her grandmother.</p><p>"They will be alright Haruni, in the end." Her voice rang with such conviction that Arafinwë and Indis looked at her startled. This was not the first time Almarëa had said something with such certainty when she should know nothing of it. </p><p>Indeed, Indis was right - in Midde Earth, the moon shone for the first time over the weary and bitter host of her firstborn, as he set foot for the first time in the strange new land his half-brother had spoken of so passionately. Nolofinwë looked up startled at the unexpected light, and saw a shining orb in the sky. Hope rose in his heart. Perhaps the Valar had not abandoned them completely.</p><p>By the shores of Lake Mithrim, the remaining six sons of Fëanáro gazed with fear and wonder at the glowing silver disk. What was it? A warning to the enemy certainly, but what did it mean for them? </p><p>Hanging by one wrist from the cliff of Angband, Maedhros laughed madly as he saw the strange light. The Valar had not forgotten the Noldor, even after the sins they had committed. "You see Moringotto! You cannot win! One day, the Host of the West will come, and you will be defeated! Tremble before the light of the West, the light you failed to destroy! You cannot win Moringotto!"</p><p>The moon also shone from a tapestry on a red haired elleth sitting in the Halls of Mandos. She hid her face in her hands and wept, refusing to look at the light. The Maia beside her fluttered with worry, but Námo and Vairë had been quite clear. Do not let Nerdanel Istarnie harm herself, but otherwise do not force her to do anything. Ever since Nerdanel had recovered from the illness that had invaded her mind at the loss of her husband, she had been inconsolable. She had been horrified to learn that she had left her daughter, and wept almost constantly. Nieramil, some Maiar called her, and the Maia currently guarding her could not help but agree. Nerdanel was indeed a broken woman.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Whaddya think? Good? Bad? Decent? Tell me in the comments.</p><p>Haruni - grandmother<br/>Tôrada - uncle<br/>Nieramil - I suck at languages, but it's supposed to mean tearful mother, or something like that.<br/>Elves age differently to humans right? So physically she'll be basically the equivalent to a human four or five year old. Ish.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Black, The Night That Ends At Last</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title also from ABC Cafe/Red and Black<br/>At twenty, Almarëa is the equivalent of a human seven year old physically, although stronger and more graceful.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Haruni, look!" Indis barely managed to catch the exitable elfling before she barrelled into her. Almarëa was twenty, and a glowing, healthy happy child. "I made it for you! All by myself!" It was heartening for the Noldor to see a child so happy and bright, as though the last light of Laurelin had been made into a tiny elfling bubbling with love and laughter. Which in itself was a marvel - after the terrible event with her mother's death, Arafinwë and his mother had expected Almarëa to continue to be quiet and withdrawn. Instead, she became bright and merry and nearly obnoxious in her delight in absolutely everything, though only with those she knew. When she met someone the first few times she was almost painfully shy and quiet, but once out of her shell was a regular hellion. </p><p>"What is is Alma sweetie?" Almarëa held out a little crumpled bit of linen with bright splotches of colour covering it. They resolved into multicoloured flowers and butterflies, a bit clumsy perhaps, but considering her age, marvellously well done. "Oh that is beautiful. Did you do it all by yourself?"</p><p>"Yep! Well, except the blue one in the corner. Lithôniel did that one, but I did all the others!" Indis praised her granddaughter effusively, although her heart was troubled. Here was another reminder that the grandchild of her heart was not the daughter of her own child but of Míriel's child. Míriel's tapestries and embroideries were so wonderfully made that they seemed real, and Indis saw already hints of such a skill in Almarëa's work. </p><p>"Can I show Uncle Ara too?"</p><p>"Wait a moment sweetheart." Indis caught her granddaughter and pulled her onto her lap. "Your uncle is in the middle of a very important meeting with Kings Olwë and Ingwë. We shouldn't interrupt them."</p><p>"Yes Haruni. Can I meet them?" The downcast expresssion that had briefly crossed Almarëa's face quickly evaporated at the thought of meeting the near legendary kings. Indis laughed and assured her that they would. </p><p>"Haruni, what is Great-uncle Ingwë like? Do you think he will like me? Does he like flowers? Oh, do you mind if I give him this Haruni? When can I meet him?" Indis laughed and picked Almarëa up. </p><p>"Well, first of all you need to get changed. I don't know how Lithôniel was teaching you, but it seems to have involved rolling around in the grass." Almarëa pouted, but allowed her grandmother to carry her through the palace to the royal quarters.</p><p>****************</p><p>"Come along Alma, you don't want to be late do you?"</p><p>"No, Haruni." Almarëa still lagged howevere, and Indis sighed, turning to crouch down in front of her granddaughter. </p><p>"What is it sweetheart? What's wrong?"</p><p>Almarëa bit her lip before whispering in Indis' ear. "What if they don't like me. Because of <em>them</em>." </p><p>That was what she was worried about? "Almarëa Fëanáriel. Put such childish thoughts out of your head. I know for a fact that my brother is dying to meet my newest grandchild, and Olwë is not opposed to it, which is marvellous considering the strained relationship between the Noldor and the Teleri. If they do not like you, it is their own fault. Now come along and stop worrying." She stood up again and continued, Almarëa's little hand still gripping hers, but she kept up and was no longer lagging. </p><p>They reached the double doors of the meeting hall, and Indis took the moment before they were pushed open to check Almarëa's appearance one last time. The little girl was neater and tidier than most children, true, but she also had her moments. For example, how she had looked not so long ago - Indis had ascertained from Lithôniel while Almarëa was bathing that the elfling had actually been rolling in the mud. Thankfully, she was completely clean and neat again. Her long silvery-golden hair shone in the light of the Fëanorian lamps, and her eyes reflected the brilliant blue light back just as brightly. Her pretty dress, as light a blue as Indis remembered the sky used to be, was clean and free of any rips or tears. She looked angelic, and Indis smiled. It was nice to have an elfling to look after again. </p><p>The doors creaked open and the two ellith proceeded in, hand in hand.</p><p>The meeting hall was large and elaborate, very much in the typical style of the Noldor. At one end the three kings stood around a table with maps and parchment on it, speaking lowly together. They looked up upon the entrance of Indis and her granddaughter, and Arafinwë smiled. ''Ah, there you are Alma, Amil." He knelt down and held out his arms, the elfling running into them happily. When he lifted her and set her on his hip, she immediately wound her little arms around his neck, peeking shyly at the strange ellons. "Uncle Ingwë, Law-father Olwë, may I present my niece Almarëa Fëanáriel. Alma sweetheart, this is your Great-Uncle Ingwë and King Olwë." </p><p>"Pleased to meet you." Almarëa's voice was almost inaudible, and she hid her face in her uncle's hair immediately after she finished speaking. Ingwë smiled and greeted her with faux-gravity, making her giggle and hide her face a little less. Olwë was less warm, but he was wise enough not to place the sins of others onto a little child. </p><p>Indis supposed that it was easier for them to pretend that she was not really a child of Fëanor, to imagine Almarëa as one of her blood grandchildren. It was easier to imagine the elfling as not part of her conspicously absent father's House than it would have, say Curufinwë. The silver-tinged long gold waves and more delicate than strong features greatly detracted from the resemblance that her brothers all bore to their sire. Indis did not particularly mind. As long as her brother and the father-in-law of her son were not cruel to her granddaughter, she was happy. </p><p>****************</p><p>"Haruni. What is that?" The sky was tinged with pink and gold and purple, bathing the world in a brighter light than Indis had seen for many a year. </p><p>"It is Anar, the last fruit of Laurelin." Indis' voice was quiet with wonder. "Like Isil, it will bring light to all of Arda, an orb set high in the sky." </p><p>The light increased, all the elves in Tirion ceasing their movements as they watched the first dawn of the world. No one saw quite how it happened, but suddenly, in the sky, hung an orb shining with bright golden light, it's rays illuminating everything they touched, brighter than anything the elfling had ever seen. She laughed for joy, her hand reaching out to touch one of the beams. "It is warm Haruni!" Turning to her grandmother, she pulled her into the light. Indis smiled and lifted the child up, setting her on the wide balcony railing, both of them soaking in the light.  </p><p>In Middle Earth, the eyes of a new people awoke, seeing first the bright golden light, and their hearts were turned towards it, determined to follow it all the days of their life. </p><p>The Noldor, in their camp by the shores of Lake Mithrim saw the sign and wondered, taking hope that all was not lost. </p><p>Fingon, his hope almost gone in the dusty waste of Thangorodrim, looked up in surprise at the brilliant light unlooked for, a song springing to his lips, a song made long ago in his childhood of praise to the golden fires of Laurelin. And then, as hope ever comes with the dawn, a voice returned the song, singing defiantly from above him, cracked and strained, but alive.</p><p>In the Halls of Mandos, for the first time since she realised she had left her little daughter alone in the world, Nerdanel looked up at a tapestry in wonder. Námo and Vairë watched her, invisible, glad that finally, the elleth might be healing. The tapestry showed the first sunrise, with little Almarëa at the centre, surrounded by a halo of glowing gold. Nerdanel reached out and touched the woven face of her daughter, and a faint smile played across her lips. Her daughter fairly glowed with happiness, and she was bright and beautiful and for the first time, Nerdanel turned her thoughts to something other than the crushing guilt that had held her fëa in its thrall.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Let Your Hearts Be Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Merry Christmas guys!!!! 🎄 🎄 😊</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A giggle sounded through the halls of the palace, followed by the all but inaudible pattering of little elfling feet. The elfling in question sped into view, her face alight with glee. Another elfling followed her, maybe half a decade younger than her. He had typical Noldorin features, though his eyes had a slight tinge of blue to them, and was laughing as hard as the princess. </p><p>"Come on Anardil!"</p><p>"I'm smaller than you. I can't go as fast." Almarëa halted in her tracks, waiting for the younger boy to catch up. Anardil was the son of one of Arafinwë's advisors, and the two elfliings had often bumped into each other when their respective guardians were busy at the palace. They had formed a firm friendship by now, and were the official assassins of peace and quiet in Tirion upon Tûna.</p><p>Anardil caught up to his friend and grabbed her hand. Together, the pair ran down the rest of the long corridor to their destination. Through dint of sheer willpower, they pushed open the heavy doors and slipped into a wonderland.  </p><p>As the Valar hosted all elves who would come for the celebration of the Firstfruits every year upon Taniquetil, so the kings of the Eldar took turns to return the favour once every decade for Midwinter. For the first time in the lifetime of the two elflings, this event was taking place in the Noldorin court, and they were very excited, which was perhaps an understatement. Almarëa was a little apprehensive because of the whole debacle with her family before her birth, but still, the elfling was highly anticipating the event.</p><p>"Wow!!!" Living in or near the palace of the Noldoran for most of their lives had given the pair an appreciation for beauty, but the Valar were after all the teachers of the Noldor. It was tradition that the visiting Valar and their attendant Maiar aid their hosts in decorating, and the outcome was always spectacular. The large feast hall was almost unrecognisable, so different, and so beautiful. Glowing forms flitted here, there and everywhere, putting the finishing touch to the already near perfect decorations. Arafinwë and Indis stood to one side, speaking with several, tall, glowing beings. One turned upon their entrance and smiled, interrupting the conversation to point out the pair of elflings. Suddenly shy, Almarëa made a dash for her grandmother and hid in her long skirts, peeping shyly out at the strange beings. </p><p>She made rather an adorable image, silver-gold hair coming loose from her plait, dark blue eyes wide and staring, nearly entirely hidden by the delicate folds of lavender fabric. Unfortunately for her, it was also an image that many of the Valar associated with Tyelkormo - wild, wide-eyed and partially hidden, even down to the colouring. Oromë's smiling face tightened, and Námo looked sterner than ever. Nienna burst into tears, and almost all of the Valar looked suddenly grimmer. Their countenances would have been terrifying to any elfling, let alone an already frightened one. Almarëa hid completely in Indis' skirts, totally forgetting poor Anardil, who was standing where he had been abandoned by his friend in the middle of the floor. Thankfully, though only the equivalent of a seven year old human, he was remarkably insightful and tactful, and understood that Almarëa was overwhelmed. Taking one last look at the amazing sight, he slipped out of the hall to his family, waiting resignedly for him to return as they always did when the little princess dragged him off. </p><p>Tulkas, ever the quickest to joy, was the first to recover his equilibrium and knelt down, holding out his hand to the little girl. "Mae govannen little one." She peeped at him, one hand detaching from it's death grip on Indis' skirt to wave shyly at him, her polite reply only just audible. Tulkas grinned broadly and stood back up. "I like this one. She's brave, and light-hearted." The Vala's insight was not unusual, his simple, happy nature granting him surprisingly accurate impressions of people. His wife Nessa held out one hand, the movement almost uncannily graceful, even to an elf. </p><p>"Greetings little one." Her voice was light and airy, and it seemed to reassure the elfling, for her grip on her grandmother's skirt slackened, and her face less wild. "I hear you like to dance? Why don't you come with Nessa and I can teach you some new dances." Almarëa timidly looked up at Indis and Arafinwë, who gave their permission smilingly, before cautiously placing her hand in the Valie's. Nessa drew her away, and soon had the elfling dancing merrily, her Maiar abandoning their work to join the dance as they so often did.</p><p>****************</p><p>Indis smiled to see her granddaughter happy with a stranger so quickly. She hoped that it meant that the elfling was healing. Manwë was speaking, his voice grave, and she quickly turned to listen. "...does not show any signs of <em>any </em>of Fëanáro's tendencies?" Now that she thought about it, Indis thought she could detect the tiniest bit ofof astonishment in the otherwise measured tones of the Elder King. </p><p>"No Lord Manwë." Her son replied respectfully. "Almarëa is young, but I do not think she is much like him. She is rather a handful yes, but in a more positive manner than my half-brother. She likes to dance and enjoys anything to do with textiles, and loves flowers. My niece is...truly happy and innocent in a way that is remarkable considering her ordeals when she was younger. Even if she does constantly escape her lessons with Master Rumil." Manwë raised an eyebrow at the impassioned, but polite defence of Almarëa. </p><p>"I see." Perhaps he would have said more, but the elfling they were discussing came back, her face alight with happiness. </p><p>"Haruni! Tôrada! Guess what!" She didn't give them time to guess, but rushed on with her news. "Lady Nessa said that if I practice really really hard, she'll come and teach me dancing sometimes! And when I'm older, I can go and learn dancing at her halls! Please Haruni. Please Tôrada. Please. Please. Please." The little elfling clasped her hands under her chin and bounced in place, head cocked to one side like a dog. She looked adorable, and Indis sighed. </p><p>"If Tôrada Ara says yes." Arafinwë laughed and gave his permission, wincing slightly at his niece's shriek of delight. She promptly tore out of the hall to find Anardil and tell him, apparently forgetting about everyone else. </p><p>"Is your niece...always like that?" Varda asked amusedly, and the king nodded resignedly. </p><p>*****************</p><p>The festival was marvellous. The royal family, though incomplete, looked marginally less lonely with the Valar also at the High Table. Almarëa was perfect, the image of a dutiful princess - not a single silver-gold hair out of place, not a wrinkle in her clothes, not a complaint. It was a miracle - such a thing rarely happened with an elfling, especially one as high maintenance, though sweet, as Almarëa Fëanáriel.</p><p>The feasting and the speechmaking all passed without incident, and they were partway through the dancing when Almarëa disappeared. Indis excused herself quietly and went to search for her granddaughter, leaving her son happily chatting with a large group of people. She found Almarëa sitting in the low fork of a large tree, a piece of embroidery on her lap. "Alma sweetheart, come down, you need to come back to the festival."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Why not sweetheart?"</p><p>"They don't want me. I heard Lady Eruanna say it was a disgrace that a Kinslayers daughter was allowed near the royal family at all and-" She cut herself off, and Indis reached up and collected her into her lap, sliding down into a sitting position at the base of the tree heedless of the damage it would probably do to her beautiful dress. A dress was replacable, Almarëa was not. </p><p>"Lady Eruanna is a petulant power-hungry child without a decent bone in her body. You do not need to listen to her poisonous thoughts, and would do better to ignore her politely wherever possible."</p><p>"And when it's not possible Haruni?" Obviously the child felt better if she was being cheeky again. </p><p>"Then...ignore her impolitely. You are a princess sweetheart."</p><p>Almarëa giggled, and the pair sat in the darkness, watching the stars and the moon quietly together. Just for a moment, they were just another woman and her granddaughter, not the Queen Mother and the abandoned youngest child of the Crown Prince. Just for a moment, they celebrated the Midwinter festival in their own way, simply enjoying each others company, without the social moires and strictures that came with their position. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I always imagined the Valar as kind, caring mentors and teachers more than anything else. From the fics I've read, I doubt that it is a popular opinion, but my story, so here we are.</p><p> </p><p>Read and review please ☺</p>
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